Dragon's Tears
by Namer-of-the-Lights
Summary: The first (and last) mating fight for the dragons.


Dragon's Tears  
  
  
  
A pack of wolves loped across the vast grasslands. Their hunt was going well, until--a feral shriek split the air. The lead wolf, a huge, brindled male with golden eyes, gave a bark, a snarl, and a brief howl. The other wolves melted into the trees.  
  
"One wonders what this is all about," said a silvery female, slinking over to the leader--her mate.  
  
"One wonders also," he replied.  
  
"Perhaps, we should go and discover what it is," she suggested.  
  
"Let us go, then." They slunk, bellies low, through the high grass. Watching.   
  
With a terrific crash, three dragons swooped down from the sky. Huge, reddish-black, looking like enormous, reptilian birds with long, serpentine tails and fanged beaks, the two male dragons landed with twin booms and began circling each other warily. The female, slightly smaller and a brighter red, watched eagerly.   
  
"One thinks perhaps these creatures are fighting over something," the brindled wolf remarked.  
  
"Perhaps, they are fighting over a mate," the silvery wolf replied.  
  
"How remarkable."  
  
"The deer do it, and one believes that perhaps some birds may do it," she said.  
  
"One does not think that these are birds."  
  
The nearest male leaped forward to engage the other one. His wing was ripped almost immediately, but the other received a slash across the chest. Torn-wing leaped back, then closed with the other again. They grappled, slashing and biting, unable to use their flames at close range. The female screeched encouragement to both of them.  
  
"One wonders if it must screech so loud," said the silvery wolf.  
  
"Perhaps that is how it speaks," the brindled wolf replied.  
  
"One wonders why it must speak so," she said.  
  
The two males leaped away from each other. Suddenly, they rose into the air, fanning the grass with their huge wings, bellowing at each other. Torn-wing was having a little trouble getting off the ground, but he managed it anyway. Cut-chest leaped at him and they fought, clawing and snapping, about fifty feet off the ground. Slowly, they rose higher, wings laboring as each sought to kill the other. Abruptly, the dragon with the torn wing tumbled from the sky, and landed with a crash upon the dirt below. The airborne dragon snarled and swooped after him. Clumsily.  
  
The wolves watched silently.  
  
The airborne dragon came whooshing down from the sky toward the dragon with the torn wing. He waited until the last possible moment, then loosed a raging fireball upon his foe. The swooping dragon screamed. Losing control of his wings, he slammed full-force into the flaming dragon, his burning body trapping the other. The first dragon shrieked. The female gave a harsh cry of fear.  
  
The burning dragon twisted his dead this way and that in his agony, as the male trapped beneath him fought to get out. Suddenly, the dying dragon's teeth closed on the trapped dragon's throat. He screamed once, then died. The burning dragon gave one final shriek, then collapsed, dead at last.  
  
Impassive, the wolves waited.  
  
The female dragon moved slowly forward, nudging the two enormous corpses hopefully. After a while, she seemed to realize something. She raised her head to the sky and gave one long, lonely scream of utter despair. Then, still screaming, she leapt into the air and winged slowly away, her shrieks deteriorating into dragon-like sobs of loss. She knew she was alone.  
  
"One wonders why she cries," the she-wolf said, shaking her silvery head. "There are other mates."  
  
"Not for her," said the brindled wolf slowly.  
  
"Those were the last?" she said in horror. A wolf knows better than any the utter misery involved in being alone.  
  
"So it seems."  
  
"One thinks that it should know that others grieve with it," the silvery wolf said slowly.  
  
"Perhaps," he said.  
  
"Let us mourn with it," she said. The he-wolf barked sharply. The rest of the pack trotted over to them from the surrounding grass.  
  
"Let us mourn," he said. The wolves raised their heads, and, as one, they howled a howl filled with sympathy, filled with understanding of her black despair. Their howl twined around her cries, mixing with them in a bleak melancholy, filling in the grief and loss with absolute solitude.  
  
"Now," said the brindled wolf, "let us hunt." The pack loped away, with the she-dragon's cries echoing across the plain behind them. 


End file.
